Monday, April 29, 2013

Have you ever worked with or for someone who has pissed you off so bad that you just wanted to go postal on their ass but didn't dare too because you were afraid of the consequences? I have and I found a way to get even. I wrote about it. I turned a small part of my life into a book with a seasonal twist called Kringle. It's a book about the assholes I worked with, my past relationships and my fears. The following is an excerpt from Kringle.

“I don’t know. I was just told he was sick and won’t be able to go.” Mandy tells her father as she stands on her tippy toes to reach a little higher into the cupboard to get the oatmeal. As Mandy reaches for the oatmeal, her shirt rises farther up over her belly, exposing more of her naked womanly curves. Not that he wanted to, but if he could see the front of his daughter right now, Napoleon would be able to see the lower portion of his daughter’s round firm breasts, just below the nipples as her shirt continues to lift up.

As Napoleon sits down at the table with his breakfast, he looks over at his daughter and quickly turns away with his hands in front of his eyes to block the view of his daughter’s curvy back. “What the heck. Did you forget to put clothes on when you came down?” Napoleon tells Mandy in shock. Napoleon hasn’t seen this much of her since she was a baby.

Mandy quickly stands upright with a box of oatmeal in one hand while trying to pull down her shirt with her free hand.

“What? These are my pajamas.” Mandy tells her father as she puts the oatmeal on the counter and gets to her hands and knees to look for a pot in the lower cabinets to cook the oatmeal in. Her shirt rides up her back again while her pajama bottoms roll farther down her hips and ass, just enough to show a little of her thong being swallowed up by her ass and a tattoo of purple pansies just above the crack of her ass. Her ass is pointed up word into the air while the rest of her is looking in the cabinets for a pot.

Napoleon turns around to casually talk to Mandy but instead, he instantly chokes on the coffee he just took a sip of. From where he is sitting at the table, Napoleon sees everything his daughter is hiding under her shirt and the top half of her ass. Napoleon knows it’s wrong but his eyes slowly moves from the crack of his daughter’s ass to the tattoo just above it.

As he looks at his daughter’s tattoo a quick flash back of Napoleon’s so called hunting trip last weekend floods his mind, starting with him stepping out of the hotel’s elevator and into a Furry convention. First the strong smell of peaches then a woman in a form fitting, red tailed fox costume walks by him. The memory of him and the woman walking into a room soon follows. As the memories come flooding back to him, he now remembers some of the details of the woman’s room that he didn’t seem to notice when he was there because of the distraction at the time. There is a red t shirt lying on the top of a desk in the room, the same one his daughter is wearing now and a pair of red plaid flannel pajama bottoms were draped over the back of the desk chair, the same pajama bottoms his daughter is also wearing now. Those memories quickly fade and are replaced with those of Napoleon fucking the mystery woman deep in her ass. It’s as clear as day, the memory of Napoleon fucking the woman in her ass as her runs his fingers over her tattoo. The same tattoo that his daughter has.

Napoleon is horribly yanked back to reality. The mystery woman from last week, the same one whom had given him a blow job, fucked him and in return let him fuck her in her ass, both that Friday and Saturday is standing in front of him. That woman… was his daughter.

Mandy stands up with a pot in hand and smiles at her father. “Found it.” She tells her horrified father.

Napoleon starts to turn a sickly green color and looks as if he’s about to loose his breakfast. He starts to dry heave then runs from the table, into the down stairs bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

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About Me

Ever since I was a kid and I saw An American Wearwolf In London, that was it. From there on on I was hooked on horror and knew that I wanted to write stories, stories like An American Wearwolf In London. About 14yrs. ago I wrote a screenplay called LUKE 6:31 (A horror). I was lucky enough to get an agent to represent me and my screenplay but I was stupid and did not go any further than that. Now I'm back and I've turned my screenplay into a short story and I'm working on two novels; one will change the way you look at Christmas while my second one will give birth to everyone's favorite doll and it's not Chucky. MY first full length novel is called; Kringle.